~ Welcome to…jugglehood!

Monthly Archives: July 2017

Everyday, for at least one moment, I give myself a hard time for not being the mum I always thought I’d be. I think I always knew I would like to have children, but I had a completely unrealistic view on it as a twenty-something with no real insight to the life of a mummy. I remember thinking that I’d enter motherhood completely relaxed about it all, and I’d be the sort of mum that would take everything in her stride, letting my children play all day, make messes, stay up late, whilst I’d cook, clean and play with them all at the same time. I had this vision of how I’d thought I’d be, but 4 1/2 years and I’m scarily nowhere near.

With one child I was fairly relaxed. I wasn’t too strict about sleep routines and Lylah slotted into most aspects of our life, but naturally, it’s a massive change and your focus shifts to your child and what their needs are. I started maternity leave imagining how beautifully clean my house would be and how I would be the mum who had it together. I have fast learned that I hardly ever “have it together”, and that most time of the time I’m keeping my head above water whilst frantically paddling away under the surface.

Since I’ve had two children, a lot has changed. I struggle with something every single day, and before I go on, I do want to note that I know there are so many more parents out there who deal with more than two children, as well as many other difficult aspects of parenthood, but I am experiencing a whirlwind of emotions daily, and this is my account of them.

Things have escalated since having Malachy, not only because there are 2 small humans to look after, but because he is a much more active and boisterous child than Lylah ever was, something I’m really struggling to get used to! He is equally adorable, sensitive and cuddly, but when he is hanging off me by my hair for the twentieth time in a day, I find it hard to remember that!

When I put the children to bed in the evening, I take a deep breath, sit down and enjoy the freedom of my own body, i.e. not being sat/jumped/climbed on, and I also enjoy a few moments of quiet and sanity.

At the moment, the minute I hear Malachy shout my name in the morning, (and I mean shout, he literally starts the day shouting), I brace myself for the rest of the day. Ahead of me lies the daily struggles. He cries when I get him dressed, he hits my face, he races around the house threatening to run into everything, he tears every piece of paper in his path, he destroys toys the instant he touches them, he pulls Lylah’s hair ALL THE TIME, he won’t let me put him in the car seat (he has to climb up himself), and this goes on and on and on and on, until I put him to bed. Even bedtime has become an ongoing struggle of throwing toys out of the cot, demanding his music, his blanket, actually no not his blanket, “turn my music off!” – get my gist? It’s a constant, exhausting battle of wills and I’m at my wit’s end. Alongside this, I’ve got my beautiful 4 year old, who whilst is very well behaved and actually listens to me for the most part, is extremely demanding and bosses me around like she’s the mummy!

So contending with my two darling children, working part-time, running a makeup business, keeping a household together, keeping in touch with friends and family, catching up on my own interests, and oh yes, remembering to talk to my own husband, feels like a mountain of effort and it builds up to the point where I feel like I might explode. And the mummy I always wanted to be feels like a million miles away. I look around at my house, every room a chaotic mess, with my job list growing and growing, and I just want to cry. I see other mummies cope with it all, why can’t I? I feel constant guilt when I am home with the kids and they are asking me to play this, draw that, build this, and my constant response is “not right now sweetheart, mummy still has to do the washing”. I just can’t seem to find a way for all the cogs to work together, and I’m always on catch up mode.

I’ve talked to some friends about this recently, about the constant chaos of everyday life, remembering kids parties, and birthday cards, and packed lunches, along with the work deadlines and cleaning your children, and it seems it’s not just me. One fellow mum is getting through the school run with the help of rescue remedy – I tried it, it helps! One thing is for certain, you should not put too much pressure on yourself. Be the mum you actually are, rather than the one you think you should be. Let your children see the real you, rather than a polished fake version of you. Enjoy the motherhood experience for what it is, warts and all, and don’t try and pretend it’s anything else. Let us help each other feel good about being mummies, rather than judging, and most importantly, look at your children. Are they happy? Well fed? Clothed? Clean? If you can comfortably say yes to the above things, then even if they are lost beneath a mound of toys and you are panicking because you’ve run out of ham for their packed lunch again, then you’re doing a pretty amazing job.

Glastonbury Festival was always something I’d experienced without any attachments. We’d pack our car full with the camping, enough baked beans for a week, cash for cider, a few boxes of wine and off we’d go. We’d normally work the festival, so we could work hard and play hard for a few days of fun in a Somerset field.

The last festival we went to was 2011, the year before I fell pregnant with Lylah. Something happens when you fall pregnant; everything else goes out of your mind, well it did with me anyway. I wouldn’t have considered going to Glastonbury pregnant, what’s the point when you can’t take advantage of the cider bus! I didn’t miss it that year at all, my mind completely occupied with the bundle of joy cooking inside my tummy. Which was good really, as it was cancelled anyway, so I wasn’t able to see the coverage and yearn to be there. The year after was a no go as well; surely Glastonbury with a 6 month old would be too difficult? I started to get jealousy pangs seeing everyone putting their pictures up on social media, and was hoping I might get lucky with a Sunday ticket and an all day babysitter, but it didn’t happen.

2014 was my sister’s wedding year, and with the hen party costs, Glastonbury wasn’t a priority. I had to leave my little angel for 3 days already, I couldn’t do it twice! 2016 saw the birth of Malachy, so once again, an attached breastfeeding baby didn’t fit with my ideal vision of me enjoying a festival. We got tickets in 2016, but decided not to go because of, you guessed it, the children. Malachy was still too young to be left for that long in my eyes, and we couldn’t face it yet. When I saw the mud I was a little smug!

But this year we did it. 2017 saw the return of The Boyds to Pilton, raring to go, after 6 years of missing the best party in the world. However, this year we did it a little differently.

We worked again, and were lucky enough to have our shifts spread across the week from Tuesday to Saturday. Childcare in place, we packed our bags ready to go. This time though, it was just for the one night. Just a light spell of camping for us this week, as we decided to use the luxury of our own homes and comfortable beds between shifts and visits to the site! Oh what a feeling that was! To get home and shower the dirt off before climbing into clean sheets!

After a bit of looking after our children on Thursday, we went in for our next shift. Only to be faced with a dilemma: we weren’t needed! What do we do? Do we ring my parents and let them know, rush home and relieve them of their grandparent duties? Or do we keep quiet, and enjoy the night and lie in the next morning in our bed without the two monkeys climbing in with us? We settled on a compromise; we’d enjoy the festival for a few hours, and collect the children early and take them home, giving mum the night off. After all, it was only Thursday!

We went home again for most of Friday, reprising parental duties, changing nappies, holding back toddler wrestling matches, the usual.

Friday night felt like a bit more freedom ahead of us. We were going in for 2 whole nights away from the kids! We have never done that before, and we sort of did it without thinking too much about it, otherwise it might have upset me too much. The thought of Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters on Saturday night was on my mind, and Chris and I enjoyed an amazingly fun evening, meeting new people, dancing, watching music and eating & drinking. We worked a great shift on Saturday, and enjoyed a raucous Saturday night, getting jumped on at the barrier for The Foo Fighters headlining set! Throughout all these fun and frolics however, my mind often turned to the children, wondering what they were doing, and checking my phone for pictures and videos being sent through from my family. I noticed another thing, everywhere I looked there were children all around us. I’ve always known that Glastonbury is a very child friendly festival, but I never realised just how many children went. I suppose I’d never been that interested before. There were pregnant ladies, newborn babies, toddlers, right up to young children enjoying the festivities in the Kidzfield.

On Sunday morning, we went to collect Lylah to bring her on site for the day. Imagine that, your first Glastonbury experience at 4 years old! She had been so excited in the lead up to it, and I was intrigued about my first Glastonbury experience with a child in tow. Chris had agreed to drive home that evening, so I was still able to drink, but swigging back on a can of Thatchers didn’t seem right in front of my little girl. I still enjoyed the pre mixed G&T’s we’d carefully poured into water bottles after all, this was still my time to relax and enjoy myself, but I couldn’t let go like I had the otter days. And that’s fine, because I want my daughter to feel safe, and most importantly I wanted it to be fun and exciting for her.

We managed to park close to gate A, and so didn’t have much walking to do to get on site, but after 5 minutes, the whines of “my legs are tired” began, and we started to wonder whether this was a good idea! We managed to swiftly get her to the Kidzfield where we met some friends, and she excitedly wanted to go on a waltzer type ride – which she immediately cried at and wanted to get off! After a few cuddles, we found solace in a storytelling tent, at which point Chris and I had to stop ourselves from falling asleep! After meeting a CBeebies heart throb (which my friend and I were the most giddy about!) we went to the Big Top tent to watch some more CBeebies action. As the kids viewed eagerly from the front, and the adults settled down on the floor, we realised at that moment just how much our lives have changed. Out of all the amazing experiences we’d had that week, which there were quite a few of, seeing Lylah’s little face light up at rides, balloons and over enthusiastic TV presenters made our festival.

We had a few moments of distress, mainly surrounding toilet experiences and worrying I might lose her down the long drops, but thankfully the portable potty we’d sensibly packed saved the day. I wonder whether Lylah will remember her wise words “I never ever want to use these toilets ever ever again” when she is enjoying her own festival experiences in her teens!

Seeing her sing along to Ed Sheeran on daddy’s shoulders, on the video I have watched again and again and will continue to watch, was the moment of the whole festival. Her sleepy eyes struggled to stay open for the moment and song she had been waiting for all day, yet she still managed to give me some sass and a smile whilst I was filming her.

Our lives our different now, and the things we do have to change. So we went to Glastonbury, we embraced everything it had to offer and enjoyed every minute, but we did it as a mummy and daddy.